


Reflections on the water

by IaMcHrIsSi



Category: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
Genre: Beverley Brook is really important to me, Character Study, F/M, Gen, Lies Sleeping Spoilers, Rated for swearing, and her friends and her boyfriend and everyone really, because there is way too little of that in the books, beverly interacting with her sisters and her mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 17:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20177896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IaMcHrIsSi/pseuds/IaMcHrIsSi
Summary: She pulls out her phone, dials Ty's number without even thinking about it. Her finger hovers over the call button, but then she puts the phone away again. Ty raised her, almost as much as Mum did. But Ty also gets extremely judgy. And her and Peter will never be close.Bev opens her eyes, puts on her shoes and goes to visit Mum instead.Or: Bev, in the aftermath of Lies Sleeping





	Reflections on the water

**Author's Note:**

> So, I came out of Lies Sleeping desperately wanting a proper view on Beverley's thoughts about... everything. Especially her being pregnant, because while that didn't come out of nowhere, having kids now also isn't something we ever saw her expressing any opinion on. So I thought I'd just write a short thing about that, but once I started I also kind of wanted to explore how she feels about her family and friends and Peter and ... well, everything. So... yeah.
> 
> This ended up being a lot more about Ty than planned, too. She kept slipping in when I didn't expect her too, and I freely admit to being fascinated by her ever since THT. 
> 
> I hope I did them all justice. This is my first time writing ROL, and I'm not entirely sure about much of it, but this has been sitting on my computer as a WIP for a couple months now and if I don't post it now I never will.
> 
> Title is from Goldeneye by Tina Turner, because I love Tina Turner.

She does the test alone.

Beverley thought about calling Peter, telling him when she realized her period was late, but Peter is... distracted, lately. Not that she blames him. Lesley always does a number on him, and now with Chorley back in London and all that trauma that particular fight entails, he's almost sleepwalking through life.

She could have called any of her sisters, too, but with her sisters come opinions and gossip and before she'll know it all of them will know and... this is supposed to be just for her and Peter, at least at first. It's supposed to be _theirs_.

So, she does the test alone. She goes to a drugstore, buys three different brands, glares at the elderly white woman with the judgy eyes, and then she goes home and pees on three sticks.

They're all positive.

Bev breathes. In and Out. Closes her eyes. Feels a fierce joy bubbling up in chest, and an almost paralysing fear.

She pulls out her phone, dials Ty's number without even thinking about it. Her finger hovers over the call button, but then she puts the phone away again. Ty raised her, almost as much as Mum did. But Ty also gets extremely judgy. And her and Peter will never be close.

Bev opens her eyes, puts on her shoes and goes to visit Mum instead.

* * *

Bev wants kids. Always has.

She's been the first to volunteer for babysitting since she was old enough to do it. Chelsea and Olympia think she's daft for it, for doing chores when she doesn't have to, but Bev's always liked being around kids.

She likes the trust they put in her, and there's very few things that make her feel as good as the knowledge that she did good by a kid. Of course, most kids she's around are her little sisters, but that just means she already loves them anyway.

Ty used to tell her that she should go to college, first. That a good education was most important, and a good job the next important thing. That respect was the most important thing in the world, and once she got that, she could think of other things, like kids. But not before.

Bev never really listened when Ty got like that. It's not like she'll ever want for money, and at that age she'd rarely been around people who didn't respect her. Mum was good at keeping those far, far away.

* * *

Mum takes one look at Bev's face and sends all the others from the room. They go silently, but they all look at Bev in the way that means she'll be the talk of the family for weeks to come. It doesn't matter. Bev's never really left the gossip of the family ever since she was a hostage of the country cousins and decided to date a wizard. She's used to it.

She stands there, looking at Mum, until she makes a short gesture with her hand, and Bev almost collapses at her side, head on Mum's lap. Mum's hand finds her hair, weaving through it like she used to when Bev was a little girl.

Mum still doesn't say anything. She's waiting, and she will keep waiting, until Bev says what she wants to say. What she needs to say. _I'm not someone to do your talking for you_, she always says. _If you have something to say, say it yourself_.

“I'm having a baby.” She says, finally, making sure not to mumble. Ty hates it when she mumbles.

Mum keeps weaving her hand through Bev's hair. She smells like she always smells, of sea and salt and home, and Bev takes comfort in it. Mum'll still be here in a thousand years, she's sure, looking and smelling the same, an anchor in a complicated world.

“My baby is having a baby.” Mum says, finally, a feeling of joy in her voice. Bev's not the first of Mum's daughters to have kids, of course. Fleet and Ty still argue who of them holds that honor, Fleet with her foster kids or Ty with her biological ones. But it doesn't matter. What matters is that Mum is happy about it.

“Children always scare you, baby. They will as long as you life. But they'll give you joy, so much more than you can understand right now.” Mum says, and Bev feels tears run down her cheeks. She's sure she makes wet patches on Mum's skirt, but Mum doesn't mention it, and Bev won't either.

It's more than that, of course. It's Bev being a River and Peter being a wizard and Peter falling apart and fucking Lesley and magic and all that damned business. But right now, Bev needs to be just a woman who going to her mother because she is anxious about her first pregnancy.

Mum lets her stay.

* * *

That week, when Peter is missing, that week is the worst of Bev's life. She tries to tell herself that Lesley wouldn't hurt him, not really. Because Lesley was his friend, wasn't she? He trusted her. He's been trying to tell himself that Lesley doesn't really want to work with Chorley, she knows he has. And maybe she wants to believe that, too.

But Bev also thought that Lesley would never do something like kidnapping Peter, and obviously she did, so maybe none of them ever really knew her.

But that's not a good thing to be thinking about, not when she has Peter and Bev is panicking.

She goes to the Folly every morning, before class, and talks to Nightingale. He's not that much help. She knows he's working on it, going through every hint of where Peter might be at every given time, day or night. He looks worse every day, like he hasn't slept at all, but then again, it's not like Bev sleeps all that much.

She had meant to tell Peter. About the baby. She had meant to tell him. But she'd only known for two days herself, before Lesley got him, and he hadn't... he hadn't really been in a good place. Mentally. Emotionally.

She had figured that maybe she should give him a bit more time to calm down before dropping this bomb on him, no matter how happy it is.

But now... what if she never gets the chance to tell him?

“We're going to find him.” Nightingale tells her on the fifth day. His voice isn't breaking, but it's not as sure as it usually is, either. She's not sure if he's trying to convince her or himself.

“Of course we will.” She says, and is proud that her voice isn't breaking either.

(When she sees Peter again, who broke himself out, because of course he did, it feels like she can finally breathe again. Like all this week, she's been trying to inhale water and now it's air again. She thinks she gets it now, why people think twice about dating coppers.)

* * *

Bev knows she's young. Younger than people usually are when they have children, these days. But she's been with Peter for over a year, now. They're happy, when Lesley doesn't fuck things up. They want to stay together.. They both want kids.

And it's not like she doesn't have the resources for it. She has so many sisters, willing to help with advice and deed, she has her Mum and Peter's parents, always there to call. And money will never be a problem for a daughter of Mama Thames.

But still. Bev knows she's young. None of her friends from the university are even thinking of having kids yet. Not that they're generally averse to the idea, at least most of them aren't. But they're young, and they are free, and they want to stay that way for at least a few more years.

She considered that, too. The idea of being without any true bindings, of being free to travel to India and Australia and Nigeria and the like, spontaneously, whenever she wants to.

But Bev has never been that big on travelling. And finding babysitters shouldn't be a problem, with that big of a family. And she's sure Peter will work just as hard as she will.

And if she has to glare at a dozen judgy old ladies, then so what. They're going to judge a young black woman anyway, no matter what she does.

* * *

Peter reacts like she knew he would. Disbelief, then amazed joy. It makes Bev smile bigger than she can ever remember smiling, and it makes her hope.

Because she's been worried. Peter's not really been himself for a while now, and even though she thinks the therapist is helping, it doesn't mean everything is well.

But the way he smiles at her when she puts his hand on his stomach, still flat, reminds her of how he used to smile back when they first met. There's something youthful in it, something honest and happy and true. He hasn't looked that happy since Lesley switched sides.

(Sometimes, she wants to find Lesley, and drown her in her river. She could, she knows it. She's a goddess, there are very few limits to what she can do. And her sisters would help her cover it up. But then she'd have to lie to Peter, for the rest of his life. Because Peter is a police officer, first and foremost, suspended or not, and there's no way he'd ever look at her the same way again if she murdered someone. Even Lesley. _Especially_ Lesley.)

That evening, they're making plans. Talking about everything and nothing, about nurseries and who's parents will babysit more. She tells him that she told her Mum first, and he tells her that he'd like to wait a bit until telling his parents.

They talk about whether they'd like a boy or a girl. They talk about the fact that both of them would like at least two children, because Bev grew up with so many sisters she can't think of her child not having any siblings, and Peter grew up an only child and would have liked a companion.

They don't talk about his suspension. Or him being a wizard, an _Isaac_, or her being a River. They stear clear of any topic that might lead to complicated discussions.

This evening is for celebration.

* * *

Ty sat her down, once, when it became obvious that Bev and Peter were going serious.

“We're not human.” She said, turning her wedding ring around her finger. She'd been wearing one of her costumes, an expensive looking light grey skirt and jacket over a white blouse. She looked rich, and powerful, and Bev wished she didn't.

She wished Ty had been wearing jeans and t-shirt, like she had in Bev's earliest memories of her. When she wasn't all that caught up in being respectable and powerful and showing all rich white men that she's better than them.

Not that that's not a totally reasonably goal that Bev totally supports. And Ty is totally better than all of them. It's just that she wished Ty wouldn't put on a show with her. That Ty knew that she's got nothing to prove to Bev.

“We're not human. We're not, Bev. I know you're young, and you see being a Goddess as just living a normal life with a few extra perks and responsibilities, but it's not.” Ty was not looking at Bev as she said it, she's staring at her ring.

“You're going to outlive him. Your wizard. And you're going to outlive all your college friends, too. And everyone you know, who isn't family or possibly Nightingale. Even some who... some who are family.” Ty's voice didn't break, but she had to take several deep breaths, which is almost the same coming from Ty.

_She's talking about her children_, Bev had realized with horror. She'd never... thought of it, truly, before that conversation with Ty. She'd just assumed … well, she'd assumed that they'd live. Live like her and Mum and her sisters.

Ty's hands were shaking, and Bev put hers over them. She couldn't think of anything to say. So she didn't say anything. Just held onto her sister, sitting there in her expensive costume, hands shaking with emotion she barely expresses to anyone anymore.

* * *

Peter being on suspension means that he's home a lot. He goes to the therapist, and he's at the Folly for magic lessons, and every now and then he just goes to have tea with Sahra and with Abigail and Nightingale and even Varvara. Sometimes they come here, too. It's good for him, to have this break. To focus on himself. To actually emotionally deal with things.

It also means that they are spending an unprecedent amount of time together. Not that Bev doesn't have her own things to do. She still goes to university, of course, and there's her duties as goddess, and she's got her own friends, too. She meets her sisters and sometimes she steals Sahra away.

But still. They spend a lot of time together. And it's good. Better than good. They watch silly action movies and share fantasy books and babysit Bev's younger sisters. Sometimes they go ghost hunting with Abigail, too. Or have Abigail just come to stay with them, so she's not alone at home.

They're good. They're better than good.

* * *

Two girls are playing in Fleets garden when Bev visits her, two of Fleets daughters. Niki, the changeling, and Sarah, who Fleet had found abandoned five years ago near her river.

Bev watches them as Fleet makes them some tea. She tries to picture her own child with them, playing make believe and running through the garden.

“How do you do it?” She blurts out. She didn't mean to start like this. She's not sure how she thought she'd start, what she'd say, but she hadn't meant to be this direct.

Fleet doesn't say anything for a moment, just puts the tea down on the table and sits down next to her. She's thinking about her answer, Bev can tell, really considering it. That's rare with Fleet, that she has to think about how to answer a question. Fleet has always been a woman who knows exactly what she wants, thinks and does.

“I suppose it's like how any mother raises any child. You can make plans, you can try to avoid any dangers and unpleasant moments, but life doesn't play that way. Not for ordinary mothers, and certainly not for us.”

“But how...” Bev doesn't want to be afraid. She's never liked it. Beverley Brook Thames charges right into the fray, she doesn't dither and worry. But this... this whole thing...

“You can't change it, so don't try. I look at my children and I don't know what their future holds. With some of them I don't even know what their past is like. All I have is today. Tomorrow, they might develop worrying powers, or they might fall in love with someone who doesn't love them back, or they might get in trouble in school or any other of a myriad of frightening possibilities. You can't focus on that, it'll drive you insane.”

She smiles at Bev, kindly, with that warm smile she'll always associate with Fleet.

“What is going to happen will happen. You can't stop it, you can't change it. That is the reality of life as a mother. So don't try, and don't worry too much. You have today. Everything else is going to figure itself out.”

* * *

Sahra shows up with a huge box of chocolates, a couple weeks before they officially announce it. Bev doesn't ask how Sahra knows, and Sahra doesn't tell, but it's not that important.

“You look good.” Sahra says, honest and calm. They've been meeting for coffee regularly for a while now, ever since that business in Hyde Park One made Sahra a definite part of all of this.

Bev hadn't really known what to make of her, at first, whether she should trust this woman who more or less took Lesley's place after Lesley betrayed... everyone, really. But Sahra is not anyone's replacement. Sahra is herself, first and foremost, a good copper and a good friend and a good woman. And talking shit about Nightingale and Peter is a lot more fun with her than it ever was with Lesley.

(There was always a certain... hard edge, to Lesley's complaining. Bev isn't sure if she really noticed it at the time, before everything, but in hindsight... Lesley _meant_ it, a lot of the times, when she talked them down. Sahra is annoyed with them, and she's honest in her critizism, but she's friendlier about it.)

“Thanks.” Bev says, taking a piece of chocolate and savoring it. It's good chocolate, dark and full of flavor. “So do you.”

Sahra is wearing her dragon jacket, the one that makes her walk even taller than usual, over a pair of jeans and a black hijab. There's a spark in her eyes, a comfortable self assurance that has only grown since she's started smelling of magic. She looks so good that if Bev wasn't madly in love with Peter and Sahra wasn't crushing on her friend Michael, this would be much flirtier.

“Two gorgeous ladies and a lot of chocolate. If we were white, this could be the scene in chick flicks where one of us got cheated on by her boyfriend and us artistically crying about it to her best friend.” Sahra says, and Bev laughs.

“We wouldn't cry about it. We'd punch their goddammned lights out.” She says.

“Absolutely.” Sahra grins.

* * *

They tell Peter's parents on a sunny Sunday when she reaches the end of the first trimester. The maternity books she reads all agree that the chances of losing the baby dwindle dramatically after reaching that point.

Not that she had been that worried about that possibility, but still. It sort of makes sense to tell them at that point.

“Oh my dear.” Rose says, hand over her mouth, and then she hugs Bev. She hugs like Mum does. Over her shoulder, Bev can see Peter and his dad also hugging, sort of awkwardly. She smiles.

* * *

Bev doesn't have a father. Of course she doesn't, she was born of her river. She has a mother, and she has sisters, and a whole host of country cousins, but they weren't really family when she grew up.

The thing is, she doesn't have a father. She never needed one, not with Mum and her sisters, and she never really wanted one, either. She has a family. There was no vacancy left for a father to fill.

But her baby will have one.

Peter will be an amazing father, there's no doubt about it. He adores children, and he's good with them, and he adores Bev and the thought of being a father and...

Peter will be an amazing father. And Bev likes to think she'll be an amazing mother.

It shouldn't be a thing, to her, that she doesn't have a father, and her baby will have one. She knows Peter worries. His father... well, he tried, and he's still trying, but nobody is under any illusions that anyone other than Rose did the parenting.

It _isn't_ a thing to her, most days, and maybe that's why it's weird. But that's just part of what's always going to be kind of weird.

* * *

There's a card in the post one day. Pretty in that generic way, some flowers and the sun.

_Congratulations_, it reads, in a handwriting Bev somewhat recognizes. _All my love, LM_.

She stares at the card for a few minutes, and then she goes to the river and burns it. She makes sure that there isn't even the smallest piece left, and then she lets the ashes float away with the water.

Lesley does _not_ get to mess with Peter's mind again.

* * *

They have to talk about it, eventually, of course. About Rivers and wizards and magic.

“I don't know how it's going to be.” Bev says, and she doesn't hide how scary that is. “Ty's kids are mostly human, except for like, a good feeling for her River and an ability to tell when someone is … different. And they can smell wizards. But Ty's husband isn't a wizard, either, so...”

“Well.” Peter says, looking at her with a certain spark of curiousity in his eyes. This spark is a big part of why she fell in love with him, Bev thinks, this want to understand, not just to accept things as given but to truly make sense of them.

“Everyone can learn to be a wizard, if they put in the work. And as far as I know, it doesn't actually change the gene sequence or anything like that. Though... there was Melissa.”

“But Melissa is... well, I'm pretty sure it doesn't come from _just_ her grandfather.” Mostly sure. It's really rude to ask why someone is special if they don't volunteer that information. Which Melissa hasn't. But her and Bev are still texting each other every other week or so, so maybe one day she will.

Or she won't. She's an awesome friend anyway.

“Magic can change people, we know that. Niki, the fake one, or the real one?... she changed just by virtue of having been exposed to magic for years, she learned the glamour. And her older sister, her eye color changed in just one night. Though that might have been the Fairy Queen deliberately doing that? So maybe magic does change practicioners too, and we just don't know it yet?” Peter is going scientific again, which is cute, but she can also tell he's kind of really worried.

Bev is worried, too. And scared, and anxious, and all those words that describe that deep pit of fear in her stomach when she thinks about all the ways that this can go wrong.

But there are also all the ways this can, and will, go right. She thinks of what Fleet said.

“We can't change it anyway. What is going to happen will happen. All we can do is be happy about it.” She says, quoting her sister, and puts Peter's hand on her belly. She's showing, now, quite a bit, and it's still an unbelievable thing.

Peter smiles.

* * *

Peter tells Nightingale alone. They considered doing it together, like they did with his parents, but somehow that would have felt wrong. Peter's and Nightingale's relationship is quite a messy one, if Bev thinks about it, what with Nightingale being Peter's colleague, his mentor, his friend, a person he lived with and his boss, all together, at the same time.

Bev sticks with Molly and Foxglove while Peter and Nightingale have their chat. She doesn't have to tell them. They've known for a while. Molly has started packing Bev a bigger lunch, and Bev is pretty sure she's seen a cookbook for pregnant women in the kitchen lately.

“Thank you both. For all your help.” She tells them sincerely. They smile at her, a minute thing from Molly, a bigger one from Foxglove, but both honest, both real. You're not alone, their smiles say. You have a family, right here, and all over town. You will never have to be alone.

That's the part that matters, she thinks. Not the magic, not goddesses and wizards and coppers and criminals. Family is what matters. And it's all around her.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not quite happy with the scene with Sahra. I wanted them to have a longer conversation, but I feel like I couldn't get a good handle on their relationship? I blame the fact that so far we've never seen them interacting on page. Same with the scene with Peter's parents, I want a whole novel about his mum especially, because I can't get a good grasp on her.
> 
> And the ending is kind of awkward, but I always hate the endings I write for fics like this, so, nothing new there.


End file.
